Many readers of this blog have taken the time to write to me over the years to tell me how Barnstorming makes a difference in some way in their lives. I plan to compile some of those comments and reviews on this page as an encouragement to them and to me. Thank you, thank you, more than you can know.

Emily

from Carol:Oh, thank you, Emily, for such beauty in image and word~and such poignant prayer to live more fully inGod and the grandeur of his gifts~

from Sally:Can there really be a place so beautiful with sunsets so moving?Why not with a God who said, “Behold I make all things new!”Thank you for sharing your Thin Place.

from Richard:Beautiful photos and words to remind me to pay attention to the day.

from Lindsey (again!):Oh, this photographs and these words – yours most of all – are astonishing, glorious, comforting. Thank you, thank you.

from Celia:
Your blog was recommended to me by a friend a few days ago; I began reading and didn’t want to stop. Your words and photos helped me touch once more the beauty of this world. I very much need that. … thank you for reminding me of my need for renewal and beauty and slowing down.

from Katrina:
Oh Emily, I adore your blog. It is a balm for the soul in these times. I so appreciate your beautiful images, your tender words, the selections you offer. I don’t always comment, but I’m always there and always grateful.

from Bessie:
“The bright light of a few well chosen words can ring us like a bell; we are struck dumb that such clarity comes to a place so well hidden that it was easy to evade.” Emily, that’s what Barnstorming is to me.

from Barb in Oregon:Thank you for being you and for sharing. I need to get out to do farm chores (the dog is lifting and the rains are coming) so I must be brief. …it occurred to me that I believe the lack of ads is part of what makes your blog so peaceful, meditative and wonderful. There is no competition for my easily distracted attention. The well curative poems and writings of others and your well crafted thoughts and observations are allowed to sink in. Many, many thanks!!

from This Holy Hour…sharing this lovely blogpost I serendipitously stumbled upon by farmer and family physician Emily Polis Gibson, which reminds me that blessing others is also (and should often be) a silent gift, a benediction of attentive listening.

from Kelley:

…just acknowledging a deep gratitude that you are here and doing this so faithfully every day. Your posts are just about the only thing (other than emails from family) that I never delete no matter how busy I am. I cannot even express how deeply or how often the beauty of your photographs and the depth of your words touch me, in my daily-ness and root me in beauty rather than fear or sorrow. There is a depth to it that is holy. A joy that is sorrows companion. Thank you, thank you, thank you for being faithful.

from Amy Towne Whitford:

In a season of winter, your daily work of words have been nourishment to my soul… thank you for the extraordinary gift of daily glimpses of glory in the ordinary. I wait for them like the fragrance of warm bread freshly made.

Nearly all the images that appear in Photo Friday on this site are taken by travelers. Whether as scientists, as artists, or as adventurers, the photographers have undertaken journeys to mountain areas. They have sought out glaciers as visual subjects that illustrate their understanding of our world—its beauty, its fascination, its fragility.

By contrast, these images are taken by an individual very much rooted in place, Emily Gibson, who describes herself as “a wife, mother, farmer and family physician.” A third-generation of the Pacific Northwest, she presents images and essays from her life on and around a farm on her website Barnstorming. She includes glaciers along with other subjects that express her understanding of our world—the ability to cherish its beauty and meaning, the responsibilities of people to care for one another, feelings of humility and gratitude in the presence of immensity.

Her images do not illustrate a journey to a mountain, but a settling into place. These images show her capacity to sense freshness not in something distant or new, but in something nearby and familiar. The glaciers of Mt. Baker lie on her horizon. Her photographs make it possible for others, who live at greater distances from mountains, to keep glaciers on our horizons as well.

All of these are nice, Emily, but the first one may be the best-composed landscape I’ve ever seen. I have a mania for Picasso’s definition: “Art is a lie that tells the truth.” So I’m always taken by some image on a flat piece of page, scant millimeters thin, whose surface has been manipulated to suggest great depths into which one feels one could walk. I can literally feel the gravel under my shoes in this scene. Thank you.

Barnstorming – “It’s rare that I find a blog that I relate to this intensely. I read the whole thing in one single gulp, practically, tears rolling down my face, gasping often. Emily refers to the top of the ferris wheel, she quotes Madeleine L’Engle, she talks about how what she witnesses in this world brings her to her knees, she cites my favorite poem, Wendell Berry’s The Work. I’ve found a more elegant, more eloquent version of myself.”

“From my “Stories that make you go ‘Wow!'” file: This is from one of my must-read bloggers Dr. Emily in Washington state, a physician and wonderful, spiritual writer who worked with Jane Goodall back in the day.”

“If I had to pick just one devotional blog to read during Lent, it would probably be Emily Polis Gibson’s Barnstorming blog. Emily is a family physician and farmer in rural Washington State. I discovered her blog last year during Lent and fell in love with it. The combination of astounding beautiful photographs, quotes from Christian classics and poems, original poetry, and deep soul-stirring reflections has made this a blog I turn to again and again for encouragement and deep soul-refreshment. Here is Emily’s Lent Category.”

From Alice in Albany:

“It began with Chesterton’s evocative quote, Josh’s lifelike pictures, and continued seamlessly with your inspired thoughts. In all, truly a breathtaking emotional experience that, at first, caught me off guard. I read this post over three times. Each time, it became more beautiful and sunk deeper and deeper into my soul. I have never, ever read anything so metaphorically descriptive of our human spiritual journey. It also describes perfectly the meaning of the Paschal Season in the Christian calendar that begins this Wednesday. You have captured in exquisite symbolism our human journey that begins with the ashes that we receive on Ash Wednesday, through the 40 days of penitence and remembrance of Jesus’ final earthly journey, ending with the dark days of His Passion and death upon the cross, and culminating with His glorious Resurrection, all of which has purchased for us the gift of eternal life.

You have been filled with the Holy Spirit, Emily. This posting, and so many that you write, are the result of that indwelling. Thank you for sharing your gift with us.

I am sending this post to all on my e-mail list, asking them to forward it appropriately. I am also suggesting that they clip it and place it where they will see it for use as a meditation every day during the Paschal Season.
I am also sending a copy to our local diocesan newspaper, The Evangelist, asking them to print it.”

From Peggy in Spokane:

Emily ,
I enjoy that the treasures of writings from you, come one at a time to me … as it gives me time to savory each one and dwell on them alone, to reflect how they touch my life even though I live clear across the state , amazed at how each different story is part of my life as well as a part of all others that might have the joy to read them .
How we live different lives but in our hearts and mind they are not so different .
Our feelings… they are so shared in how you touch my life in ways I don’t allow others to touch .
How open and honest you are in them …
How we all need to be more tolerant of people in our families as they are doing the best they can in their own way … thanks again .
Peggy in a freezing foggy morning
thinking how nice it would be to wake up to spring

From Nancy in Shelton:

Want to let you know that every posting in an inspiration. I am amazed at your ability to have such an important job, family and farm…all demanding. Thank you for taking the time to post photos and poems and sweet messages. The departure of the children after the holidays really hit home. I grew up in Shelton and on the bay. So much of what you speak of I can relate to. You are offering the world a very valuable service and are much appreciated. Sincerely, Nancy

You are an amazing writer. Your words have an uncanny effect on me. Several times I have happened to read one of your posts when I have been inwardly tense about something or unavailable on a certain level. Then I read your poem or your essay and I can feel a release, an opening. ( often accompanied by tears! ). A few times I wasn’t even aware of being stuck in some way until I became unstuck after reading your words. I think because you inwardly live at a place that is open, receptive and grateful you bring out those qualities in your readers. In this day and age it is a rarity to find someone who resides in that place and even rarer someone who can share it through words. You make it contagious!

That is truly a gift you have! And a gift to me. Thank you so much!

From Amanda in Southern California:

I read this post at a Starbucks in the middle of suburban California, on my 10 minute lunch break from my home visits as a hospice nurse. I thought to myself, what can I read at this moment that will be good for me, and decided to read you. I came across your blog this season of Lent because I googled “Blogs about Lent,” and you were highly recommended. I was drawn in by the imagery of your writing, the beautiful quotes and pictures, and the candid way that you share your feelings about life, death, faith and everything in between. I’m two years into nursing, and 5 months into working in hospice and I constantly need the reminder that, in healthcare settings, we humans are not god but mere reflections of grace to each other. And on Thursday I needed to read this. I teared up at the reminder that someday summer with last forever. Your “joy to joy to joy to joy to impossible joy” rang through my heart as grace to grace to grace to impossible grace. I want to live in that grace and joy regardless of the circumstance and despite the suffering all around. Thank you for sharing so regularly and with such vulnerability.

Love your blog! The photographs make me long for the Northwest! My father’s family were from Sunnyside area, but I was born in Vancouver, WA. We moved all the way to the east coast when I was younger and I now live in the south. Your insights are lovely. I found you through Ann VosKamp’s blog.
Just wanted to say “thank you” for sharing!

Google Translate

A physician’s chronicle of faith, family and farm life in rural northwest Washington state.

I come from Pacific Northwest farmers going back three generations, the daughter of teachers, married to a son of farmers; we have raised three children who are making a difference in the world as teachers and people of faith.
While keeping my eyes and heart open to the extraordinary things around me, I work as a full time primary care physician in a University setting, as well as a steward of the small farm we call home.
What I can harvest in words or pictures finds its way here.
Contact email: emilypgibson@gmail.com

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Listening to Others…

...whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. ... And the God of peace will be with you. Philippians 4: 8 -9

What is my only comfort in life and in death? That I am not my own, but belong—body and soul, in life and in death—to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.
~Heidelberg Catechism

Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
~Mary Oliver

I must consume the abundance of moments now. Days I am overwhelmed, wanting to write the music of my life in a slower tempo … yet this is the glorious dance of now.
So I shall dance in bare feet. For I am on holy ground.
~Ann Voskamp "A Holy Experience"

To do the useful thing, to say the courageous thing, to contemplate the beautiful thing: that is enough for one man's life.
~ T.S. Eliot

A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.
~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

To live is so startling, it leaves little room for other occupations.
~Emily Dickinson

I believe in God as I believe that the Sun has risen, not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.
~ C. S. Lewis

Remember this. When people choose to withdraw far from a fire, the fire continues to give warmth, but they grow cold. When people choose to withdraw far from light, the light continues to be bright in itself but they are in darkness. This is also the case when people withdraw from God.
~ Augustine

Hello, sun in my face. Hello you who made the morning and spread it over the fields...Watch, now, how I start the day in happiness, in kindness.
~ Mary Oliver

The seed is in the ground. Now may we rest in hope while darkness does its work.
~ Wendell Berry

Nothing will sustain you more potently than the power to recognize in your humdrum routine the true poetry of life.~ Sir William Osler

But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts, and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.
~George Eliot's final sentence in Middlemarch

If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.
~ E.B. White

Geese appear high over us, pass, and the sky closes. Abandon, as in love or sleep, holds them to their way, clear, in the ancient faith: what we need is here. And we pray, not for new earth or heaven, but to be quiet in heart, and in eye clear. What we need is here.~~ "The Wild Geese" Wendell Berry

Let it come, as it will, and don’t be afraid. God does not leave us comfortless, so let evening come.
~ Jane Kenyon from "Let Evening Come"

You can only come to the morning through the shadows.~ J.R.R. Tolkien

If you want to identify me, ask me not where I live, or what I like to eat, or how I comb my hair, but ask me what I am living for, in detail, ask me what I think is keeping me from living fully for the thing I want to live for. ~ Thomas Merton

This life therefore is not righteousness,
but growth in righteousness,
not health but healing,
not being but becoming,
not rest but exercise.
We are not yet
what we shall be,
but we are growing toward it.
The process is not finished
but it is going on.
This is not the end
but it is the road.
~Martin Luther

Ten times a day something happens to me like this - some strengthening throb of amazement - some good sweet empathic ping and swell. This is the first, the wildest and the wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness.
~ Mary Oliver

Love isn’t a function of communication so much as Love is a function of communion.
~ Ann Voskamp

It is not your love that sustains the marriage —
but from now on, the marriage that sustains your love.
~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer

She has done what she could...
~Mark 14:8

What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good on this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?~ J. R. R. Tolkien from The Hobbit